Adaptations
by Klondike Aura
Summary: A collection of drabbles set after the events of Variations.
1. Duck's Premiere

Fakir sits in the dark, leaving him alone despite his seat in the full theater. When was the last time he was on this side of the curtain? It must have been the trip to see the Eleki Troupe. But the trip didn't leave him knotted inside, his fingers softly drumming against the abstract swan-shaped metalwork in his lap.

The orchestra warms up, snippets of Tchaikovsky floating in. Fakir lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He applauds Erina's entrance, jolting when he first sees her. She holds up frail hands, steps back on timid toes, and Fakir swears she trembles when Siegfried reaches for his Odette. He's glad for the black cover of spectator. What would Erina tell him if she could see? "Did you think I _couldn't_ dance Odette?"

But the tension only builds, weighing down on his innards. While Erina and the new top danseur are superb, he itches to see the swans.

A hush of recognition falls over the audience, everyone intimately familiar with the song but only now realizing it was born here in Swan Lake. It does well to cover Fakir's soft gasp as the moment he anticipated arrives.

The cygnets come forward, Duck standing entwined with them in the third spot from the left. She fits her steps precisely with her partners, aglow with the movement. Fakir smiles in her stead, knowing that she must be bursting at the seams under her practiced restraint.

"Fakir!" she cheers once the curtain finally falls, rushing forward to meet him. Somehow they remain balanced even as she throws her arms around his neck and nearly crushes him. He manages to move the swan sculpture around just in time to keep it from being sandwiched between them. "Fakir, it was wonderful! We all got it _just right_ and it was so _fun_ and Erina told me it was really beautiful even though _she_ was really beautiful and-"

Fakir holds her back and laughs and tries to tell her in return that it was wonderful and she was wonderful and he has a gift for her premiere but he doesn't worry. He knows they'll have time walking home beneath the curtain of night, the dark bringing solitude once more.


	2. Coffee Break

Autor groans, still groggy and sore. "Must be getting weak in my old age," he thinks, stretching and cracking this or that back into proper alignment. The library's smothering silence redoubles every creak and pop. He straightens his glasses and rubs at his eyes. How much time did he lose? What time is it now?

He lifts a hand to shield from the ray of sunlight piercing through the window. He deducts that he slept at least an hour, maybe two. His stomach roars, and he blushes at the blasphemous volume.

"Would you please be quiet?" hisses a voice in pinched imitation.

"Do you have to do that every time you see me?" Autor whispers back at Erina's sudden presence, his chair making a dull scrape against the carpeted floor. "And what are you doing here? If you're not diligent in practice, that Duck will steal your spot."

Erina scoffs. "So what if she does? But right now you've got slobber all over your favorites and your stomach's about to eat itself."

She pats his shoulder and hoists him up. Her methods leave her usual balanchine grace to be desired, but Autor can't argue effectiveness. And it could be worse: she could be carrying him bridal style. He may not have full control of his feet under her guidance, but he's still walking.

Has he been here before? Autor huffs to himself. Like he's the sort to run around to every frivolous restaurant in town. Even if this one did feel more like a house than most restaurants. Erina puts a cup in front of him, and his nose wrinkles in distaste.

"This isn't tea."

"Very observant."

"It's not funny, Erina."

"It's only coffee. It's not going to kill you." Though as soon as she says it, Erina wonders if maybe it would. The shock of something that isn't Autor's particular blend of tea might be too much for his system to handle. She's as sure as the world is round that Autor would one day die of routine deficiency.

Autor wrinkles his nose again, waiting for the offensive aroma to dissipate.

"Do you want some sugar?" Erina suggests.

He doesn't say a word, but she laughs at how his eyebrows furrow and his lips press.

"Well, at least you're awake now," she goes.


	3. Absence

"My princess..."

It's not the first time Mytho found Rue sitting on the balustrade late at night. He knew for certain that his heart was fully restored; he could feel it still a moment when he saw her silhouetted by the moonlight before raising the dilemma of disturbing her peace or leaving her be. Tonight, he draws close to his wife and offers his comforting embrace.

Rue, for her part, smiles and reaches for her husband's arms. She leans against his chest and idly scratches near his heart. She smiles at feeling it flutter.

Mytho chuckles. It's practically an inside joke and one of the things that just ended up being another way to cope.

"What's kept you up this night, dearest?" he asks.

Rue nuzzles into his chest with a sigh.

Mytho strokes her hair and lets it twist in his fingers, letting her take her time in answering.

"We haven't heard any word from her," Rue murmurs. "No one brought her to the wedding, and no one seems to know where she is."

Mytho dots kisses on the crown of Rue's head. "Oh Rue, please don't fret. Gold Crown is probably still waking up. Everyone is still separating what is story and what is life." He smooths his hand along her cheek, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "In the morning, why don't we send Fakir a letter? He and Duck might know how to find Uzura."

Rue huffs. "I still can't believe she didn't give him a piece of her mind."

"Like you would?" Mytho asks.

"Well, Duck is pretty stubborn, too," she answers, haughty.

Mytho leans in and kisses her cheek, smiling at the warmth there. "And I imagine Duck will be pretty stubborn about finding Uzura after we inform her that we haven't seen her. She and Fakir will be thinking clearer."

Rue's expression sours again.

"Hey, he is one of my knights now," Mytho says. "But I get the point. We'll write the letter in the morning?"

"All right," Rue relents.

But the royal couple sits on the balustrade a bit longer, lingering in hope under the moonlight.


End file.
